


December 4 - 21 ornery orcs

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Multi-Age, Other - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2005-12-02
Packaged: 2018-03-22 21:41:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3744518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Today's writing "mathom" is:</p><p>21 ornery orcs</p><p>***</p><p>Write whatever you feel like – a drabble, a poem or a short story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rabble - RiverOtter

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

Rabble  
  
Orcs and Urkai  
Fighting, biting and ornery  
Battle in moonlight.


	2. 21 Ornery Orcs - by Stefania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

21 Ornery Orcs  
  
Angmar tapped his fingers on his desk and scowled at Gothmog. Of course, the Orc general couldn't discern the Witch King's expression, though he was quick enough and smart enough to sense his boss' displeasure.  
  
"That platoon of Isengarders are not working out," the Witch King hissed. "They have filfthy habits, never pick up after themselves, leave half eaten food wherever they feel like it. They completely disregard the rules."  
  
Gothmog grumbled. He personally felt that Angmar's insistance on spotless quarters in Morgul was a bit excessive. He'd reminded the Witch King again and again that developing cleaniliness habits ran against the Orcish culture. But he had to admit to himself that the 21 who had come all the way from the North as a gift from Saruman were not, well, working out. "They are lazy," Gothmog admitted. "Maybe the warmer climate makes them tired and troublesome. It's cold territory up there near the Misty Mountains."  
  
"When did cold ever stop you?" Angmar continued, in a pissy mood. "No, I am going to have to redeploy them out of your forces."  
  
Gothmog was about to say, "Good riddance," but he held his tongue. Instead he asked, "And just what do you have in mind, my lord?"  
  
A strange chortling drifted from the shadowy cape that outlined where the Witch King's head would be. Angmar said, "They are assigned to muck out the Fell Beast's eyrie."  
  
"Hmmmm," Gothmog responded. "Since you've denied me their services on the field, I hope that you will let me use them in my little guano business. They can help load the carts and possibly even work in the caravans going East. It's been cold this winter and the human scum over in Rhun will need to burn more guano to heat their homes."  
  



	3. Hope Eternal -by Gwynnyd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

When Aragorn and Faramir peered over the cliff edge, the orcs trapped and imprisoned in the box canyon below leapt to their feet, brandishing weapons and screaming a cacophony of foul curses.  
  
Faramir turned to Mablung.  "How many down there?"  
  
"Twenty-one, Captain, and every one ornery and uncooperative, as always."  
  
"They have been given the opportunity to surrender peacefully?" Aragorn asked.  
  
"Of course, Sire, every day since we trapped them here," Mablung assured him.  
  
Faramir stepped closer to the edge.  The orcs had managed to build a fire, but had not dug a latrine.  Charred bones lay scattered amongst the piles of excrement and offal that littered the floor of the tiny valley.  
  
He turned an outraged eye on Mablung.  "You didn't feed them did you?"  
  
"No, Captain!  You know as well as I that they can be easier to handle if they are hungry and weak." He shot a wary glance at the king.  "We caught twenty-five."  
  
Faramir swallowed hard.  He had never become accustomed to the orcs' cannibalism.  If the decision were his, they would be killed.  
  
Aragorn gave a dejected sigh and stepped to where he could see more of the group, still cursing and clashing weapons below.  
  
"I am Elessar, King of Gondor.  Throw down your weapons and surrender peacefully or your lives will be forfeit," he called down in a loud, clear voice.  
  
"I'll throw my sword down your gullet, Tark!"  One of the largest orcs roared his defiance and cast his sword up towards them.  
  
Faramir did not bother to flinch: it was obvious that the unwieldy, bent weapon would not reach the top of the cliff.  As it clattered down, a brief fight broke out over it. The first orc to touch it had his hand sliced off with, Faramir saw, what had once been one of the Gondorian plow blades the orcs had received when they were resettled. It had been beaten into a crude axe. The axe-wielder was stabbed by a scythe, whose owner left it deeply embedded in his victim and triumphantly snatched up the sword.  
  
"I'll ram it up your arse," the new owner of the sword shouted, brandishing it upward and ending the threat with a howl.  
  
"Aragorn," Faramir said quietly, as the king stared bleakly down at the carnage below.  "It is not your fault."  He put a delicate emphasis on the 'your'.  
  
Aragorn turned a questioning brow to his Steward.  "Is it yours, then?"  
  
Faramir made an open-handed gesture of negation. "I am not the king out of legend who vanquished all evil."  
  
Aragorn stared silently at the bloodthirsty mob.  Faramir did not interrupt the king's thoughts. At last, Aragorn turned to him. "The official policy is still clemency. All must be given the opportunity to surrender and be resettled. Do here what needs to be done."  He turned and strode to his waiting horse.  
  
Faramir gave a nod to Mablung. As he hurried after the king, the bows of Ithilien sang death, until silence fell.  
  
  



	4. Ornery Orcses by Aranel Took

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

He couldn't help but giggle as he scampered down the passageway. Dim memories tugged at his brain, of playing tricks and laughter near a river, but they were only fleeting images and he passed them off as a dream.

He heard grumbling and shouting behind him as his ornery playthings followed. "Follow me! Follow!" he yelled and he scampered again into a familiar cavern lit by a hole high up in the rock. The light glowed on silver strands and he had to shield his eyes from the brightness as he ducked behind a boulder.

Only when the first had reached the center and became tangled in sticky web did they realize their mistake. But it was too late. With a hiss, She dropped from her place high over the door, blocking off the escape route. Hairy legs and clacking mandibles deftly captured each screaming, wriggling victim. They gave a good chase, provided some amusement in this lonely dark place, and when she was done, twenty-one orcs wrapped in spider silk hung from the ceiling.

"Nassty orcses! They won't bother us no more. Gollum!" he muttered. When her attention was turned to feeding, he slipped back out into the passage.


	5. 21 Ornery Orcs Offended - by Dean Maia of Este

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

21 Ornery Orcs Offended  
  
"I am Unsbrtuz and I want you to know I lead twenty-one of the toughest orcs in Agbang."  
  
"Twenty." Someone yelled from the pack.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Azak and Qartez hadda fight. Azak lost."  
  
Unsbrtuz turned back to the Man he was trying to overwhelm. "Never mind him." Unsbrtuz sneered, "They is only you and this Elf-girl of yours to fight us. Give up and we take you to Morgoth, more or less whole."  
  
They looked at each other and smiled. Beren drew his sword. Luthien cleared her throat. They left twenty-one neatly piled orc heads now looking more shocked than ornery.  
  
  
  



	6. Goblins - by Agape4Gondor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today's writing "mathom" is:

## Goblins

"What you doin' here?"   
  
"Yeah! Who invited you?"   
  
"Nobody. Got a problem with that?" He huffed up his chest. "I wants meat. All I've had is this maggety bread."   
  
"That's what it looks like, too," a foolish goblin whispered.   
  
"Hey! Who said that?" Pulling the offending goblin up by his ears, the hideous apparition growled. "Ain't you got no manners? I told you, I wants meat. Either cough it up or I'll eat you."   
  
"There ain't enough meat for  **_ twenty-one ornery orcs _ ** , let alone one Balrog!" a scared goblin whispered to his companion. "But I heard Hobbits on the steps…."


End file.
